You Took All of My Colours
by AlxM
Summary: "It's all been so gray, the world. So empty." Arthur's P.O.V. Written for the 'Close Your Eyes' Writing Challenge on The Heart of Camelot.


**Title** : You Took All of My Colours  
 **Category** : Merlin (Gen), Tragedy, Angst  
 **Character(s)** : Arthur, Merlin  
 **Ratings/Warnings** : K, major death  
 **Word Count** : 738  
 **Summary** : Written for the 'Close Your Eyes' Writing Challenge on The Heart of Camelot. "It's all been so gray, the world. So empty."

* * *

 **You Took All of My Colours**

It is a morose routine that I seem to have adopted over the months.

Every night, the candles are puffed out by someone who isn't you. They don't wear neckerchiefs and grin at me and call me insults they've made up in their head. They all just do what they have to, and they all just come and go, come and go, come and go, and I barely notice. Like ghosts and shadows. Their voices a monotonic, dull intrusion compared to your bright laughters and witty words. It's all so quiet now, without your stupid, annoying chatter about nothing in general, and I had once thought that I'd have given anything to have you shut up. I was wrong. I don't think I would have given this. I don't know how much more you could regret such a simple, unvoiced thought.

After a while, I stopped allowing anyone in.

The room smells of dust these days, mostly. I don't mind. It's better than the scentless air that seems all the more empty without the sweet, redolent odor of your herbs and ointments and bakeries. I also don't mind that there's no food on the table. It all just tastes like ash now, just a flavorless swish of crumbled shapes that make me sicker than I already am with my grief. You're not the one who brings it to me anyway. I'm sorry I used to yell at you for being late when you did. I don't think I would mind waiting now.

Gwen comes and goes too. She's the only one I let in. She holds my hand sometimes, just for a while, and it's almost nice, almost warmer than the cold, heavy emptiness in my veins, but it isn't, Merlin. It isn't enough. Your hands were a whirlwind, quick and fast and breezing, whenever you used to put on my armor for me, or my clothes, or fix my collar. Light brushes here and there and here that seemed too insignificant to think about, too small to want to remember when they were happening. And all I can think about is how still and cold they were when we put you into the pyres.

I'm sorry if my thoughts might seem incoherent. It's hard to think some days, the ones worse than the others. It clogs my head, and it's exhausting. But I guess it doesn't matter how exhausting it is. I can't stop.

Now I'm sitting in my chambers alone, and it's dark, and I still have one of your neckerchiefs, the last one you wore. It's a little sad. Some would say pathetic. You probably would have made fun of me for it, but you're not here to do that, so it doesn't matter (it does matter. It matters a lot). It feels rough and thin and worn and creased in my fingers from being crumpled up under my pillow for so long, and I could feel the threads that get longer and longer every day I pick at them, but sometimes it's the only thing that fills up that cold, heavy emptiness in my veins, even if not wholly.

But that's only sometimes, Merlin. I wonder why I keep it when, most of the time, it only makes me feel colder and heavier and emptier. More than anything, it makes my heart so swollen and raw that it feels like it's pushing into my lungs, and I can't breathe in those moments. But I can't let go of it. I wanted to keep it because it still had some of you in it, herbs and ointments and bakeries, but now that's long gone, and I can't let go of it.

Did you know that Gaius never threw away your things after you left? He still keeps them all in your room. He barely smiles now, not like he did with you. It's forced, fake, always only for the sick children that come into his quarters. Gwen doesn't smile much either. Neither does Gwaine. Or Percival. Or Leon. Or Elyan.

It's all been so gray, the world. So empty. You took all of the colours with you, you idiot. Did you know that? I wonder if it wasn't just from me, if the rest of the world has just been like that since you left.

I hope you can give them back the next time we meet. Even though I'd really like them back now.


End file.
